Listen
by Booksong
Summary: Zuko hates the burden of his responsibilities sometimes...but one thing helps him get through it. Short, Maiko fluff.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, once again.**

**A/N: This one was inspired by a day of Maiko fan-discussion in the ASN Couples thread. And Mai and Zuko's quiet relationship and all the underappreciated perks and pros of it. And my overall love for writing random Maiko fluff. :)**

**This could also possibly be seen as a companion to "Understand", although it was actually written much earlier.**

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**Listen**

"Fire Lord Zuko...sir!"

I kept walking, my stride rough and fast. My long robe whipped around me, snapping with the wind created by my pace. The advisor called again, his nasally voice grating on me. "My Lord, please...be reasonable!"

"Leave me be." My voice was hard as ice, and I didn't care.

"But the papers…they can't wait!"

I didn't answer, didn't want to answer. I imagined that all the papers, all the formality, all the hard-faced nobles and advisors were the stone beneath my feet, being forcefully crushed with every step.

I heard the man's footsteps falter and slow behind me, his next shout trailing off into a mutter of disapproval. I knew he wouldn't follow any further.

I made a sharp left, anger and desperation pounding through me. I threw open the door to the palace kitchens, startling the woman preparing dinner. I ignored her gasps and hurried bows, sparing time only to grab a fresh loaf of bread that was cooling on a sideboard. Then I was out the back door, letting it slam shut behind me with a crash that perfectly mirrored my feelings.

The turtleduck pond was smooth as glass, the exact opposite of my mood. I had an overpowering urge to throw something into it to break up that stillness, but I resisted. Instead, I tried to take deep breaths, trying to stop my anger and frustration from making me tremble. I sat down heavily on the short, silky grass at the lip of the pond and ripped off a piece of bread with unnecessary violence.

The turtleducks knew me well by now, and they came arrowing out of the reeds, quacking softly, their small feet beating the water. I threw them the bread lump, and they attacked it hungrily.

One of them cocked its head up at me the way they always used to do when I was little. Just the sight of its smooth head and dark, soft eyes made something in me calm slightly. I threw another handful of bread crumbs.

Sometimes I wished I had nothing more to worry about than whether or not I got a piece of bread first. That my world was confined to a courtyard pond and did not extend for hundreds of miles that I was responsible for.

I stared at the grass, pressing my hands to my forehead. The stacks of parchment, each one needing to be read and pondered and signed. The endless stream of advisors and nobles and petitioners, each one crying out for my immediate attention to something or other. The invitations to parties, grand openings, diplomatic meetings. Hands to be shaken, false smiles plastered on, speeches to be delivered, each word practiced and planned. All of it building up inside me while I tried to do it all until I snapped. Like today.

The turtleducks began to quack in chorus at me, demanding more bread. I sprinkled more crumbs in the water. Even these creatures demanded something from me, although for some reason I was more willing to fulfill their simple request.

I gazed at my reflection in the water, trying not to fall apart from the sheer invisible weight that crushed me. Fire Lords could not, could never fall apart.

I shredded the remains of the bread and lobbed it as far as I could. Then I went to the shade of the willow and collapsed with my back against its trunk, watching the friendly, turtleduck free-for-all break out in the pond.

I pulled my robe around myself, as if it would somehow shield me from all the responsibility, all the work and the duty. I felt so drained and tired all of a sudden.

Soft, feather light footsteps stirred the grass behind me. Something inside me stirred in response, some small flicker uncoiled in my chest and pushed the negativity aside. My eyes, closed in blind defeat, opened halfway.

From beside me, there came a soft thunk, like metal being driven into wood, like a dagger being thrust into the tree. I heard the rustle of cloth, and soft breathing as someone settled beside me. My insides loosened, lightened, inch by inch. Still I didn't turn my head.

For a long moment there was silence. And then, slowly and gently, an arm slid around my shoulders, and a soft pressure pulled me sideways. I didn't resist.

She pulled me over until my head was against her shoulder, one gloved hand cradling my face, one pale thumb stroking my scarred cheek. Her chest rose and fell steadily with her calm breathing. My eyes closed, but this time it was with peace, with surrender. The quacking turtleducks made a soft, familiar background noise.

She rested her chin against my head, silent and soothing. Not speaking, not asking.

Just understanding.

So long as I had this, I could bear anything.


End file.
